The Pride
by Robina Snyder
Summary: Orian has been asked to be the first Queen to rule Askavi Kaeleer since Andulvar Yaslana, but the Queens don't really want her. Now it's up to Daemonar and Jillian to get together men good enough to be in the court of the Queen of Askavi.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Man, I'm tired! I did the mental math on this instead of napping today. A friend of mine did the math on the series and decided that 70 years for a long lived race is about 1 year for a normal blood. This means that Lucivar and Daemon are about 25… the problem comes with Daemonar and his aging. He'd a young man, probably about 12ish to 14ish by the end of Twilight's Dawn. Fourteen is about how old Jillian is when she arrived in Kaeleer (I imagine that she's about 15 by the time of "Shades of Honor"). This means that Daemonar ages that to be able 14 by the end of the book series. He has about 100 years under his belt by the time Saetan dies. I did a mess of calculations and just decided that aging slows at a certain point, and that there's about 500-700 years between Jillian and Daemonar's age.

Another little disclaimer: Daemonar was originally a character I paired with my OC character, but the book Daemonar and my Daemonar are very different. I suppose that I'd assumed that Daemonar would go with Orian, but truthfully, I think the line he has about Jillian makes that pairing _much_ more interesting.

I don't think that this will be too long (I hope not!) but I just wanted to do more with these characters, and I really do love Jillian and Daemonar, and I think this will be cute.

Fun Trivia: most of the past few chapters I've written have been while listening to Five Finger Death Punch's new album, _American Capitalist_. This is not a suggestion to listen to it while reading my stories, as their music is much better suited to action fics, not romances; but I find their music beautiful and it keeps me focused.

Merry Christmas y'all! (Well… boxing day at this point, I suppose, XD)

* * *

"You sure, baby mine?" Daemonar asked Orian. She'd grown up so well. She was Eryien, for true, bred through, but she had those waves and curls in her hair which had only became more pronounced as she aged. She also curled her hair, well over her mother's objects, but that didn't matter that much, not to him.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said softly, nearly whispered. Her skin had paled considerably. He didn't blame her, she was scared. Of course she was. He reached out and took her hand, leaving small kisses on the skin. He smiled, watching her close her eyes as if in ecstasy. Oh, he was very, very proud of his kisses. He appreciated his uncle's training when he'd come of age, though he knew his uncle _did not_ appreciate how he used it. His father didn't either, but that was purely beside the point.

"You're the best choice," he told her, reaching up and resting his knuckles against her cheek, stroking the smooth skin with his thumb.

"I'm not even of full age yet," she whispered softly. She was so terrified.

"It's okay, baby mine. You still have some time," he told her, but that didn't seem to make her relax any. He huffed a bit and put on his most devilishly handsome smile, and then he drew her into his arms and in a long, slow kiss. It was made specifically to distract and to melt a woman's bones and he'd had a lot of practice to perfect it. "And I'll be here for you," he breathed when he pulled away, his lips still brushing over hers and he spoke. He made himself sound like he was out of breath when that wouldn't be farther from the truth.

Orian melted into his hold. "When I form my court, will you be my consort?" she asked quietly.

Daemonar smiled, his 'I just got what I wanted' smile. "I'll think about it," he told her. "I'm not sure how I'll stand being tied to only one woman's bed," he said. That got the desired reaction.

Orian laughed and smacked at his arms until her let her go. "You're such a tease!" she said.

"Hey, I would most assuredly be fantastic for you, but there ain't no love in what I do, and you know how your silly little heart goes pitter pat whenever you take a lover," he teased, pointing at her nose. His finger made little accusatory circles just above her nose. A _certain woman_ would have bit his finger, but Orian just huffed and stuck her tongue out at him, taking a step back so she wouldn't accidentally lick his finger.

"I've been your lover plenty of times," she pouted. She'd had her virgin night a while before, and she'd had a couple of lovers since, though Daemonar was her most frequent.

"Yuh, but only because I'm your rebound after you've gone out with those loser and fall head over heels with them, and then me and father have to go hand their asses to them," he said.

She gasped. "Please, tell me you don't!" she said.

"Well, normally I just do it… but if it's really bad, like your last lover, then I get father in on it," he said.

"Oh Dae, please tell me you didn't!" she near begged.

"Ori, Father's the Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih, that bastard really hurt you and you weren't the first. He can't let that stuff slide. The guy was an idiot too, his next planned conquest was my sister. I don't put up with that shit," he said.

Orian smiled knowingly. "You're just like your father," she said.

"Not as much as he wishes," Daemonar said.

Orian shook her head and went up on her toes, kissing Daemonar's cheek. "He's just afraid of you crossing his boundaries, but then you go and set your own boundaries and scare the hell out of him. As I understand it, your other relatives think it's good… that your father needs a taste of what he's been subjecting them to for the past few centuries," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Now it was Daemonar's turn to laugh a loud, surprised guffaw that made Orian laugh in turn for how stupid it sounded. "You're so wicked, no wonder the other Queens want you," he said.

Orian quieted back down. "Yeah, no wonder," she said quietly.

"Ori," Daemonar started, but didn't get very far when the young queen shook her head.

"Dae, if you won't be my consort, will you be my first escort?" she asked.

"That I will do, most definitely," he told her. "Want to make it official?" he asked, picking up her hand and kissing her wrist.

"How official?" she asked, eyeing him.

"A life time contract," he said, tracing his tongue momentarily over the skin that covered the vein on her wrist.

"You really mean that?" she asked.

"Orian, who am I?" he asked, looking up at her and she smiled.

She withdrew her wrist and nicked with her nail before offering it back to him. "Daemonar Yaslana, will you serve?" she asked.

Daemonar leaned down, pressing his lips to the vein, drinking in a small amount of her blood, feeling the sizzle of power that came from her. "I will serve," he said.

It wasn't the real, official ceremony, but it was all they needed. Daemonar healed the wound by pressing his thumb to it, then proceeded to lap the left over blood off her wrist and then clean the blood off his thumb in a _very_ provocative manner. It made Orian laugh. In some ways they understood each other better than anyone else, and in some ways Daemonar had served her since they were kids, since they first laid eyes on her. She knew that even without the informal ceremony they'd just preformed that he would serve her. At the same time, she understood that he actually craved ceremony, and honored them in much the way the grandfather he'd lost long ago had previously.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked.

"Nothing, just thinking how high and honor it is to be first escort to the Queen of Askavi," he said.

She blushed. "I'm not there yet," she said softly. There had only been one ruler of the territory for over 50,000 years, but there hadn't been any ruler since Andulvar Yaslana passed away. Orian would be first queen to rule the Askavi Territory in Kaeleer in over 50,000 years.

"Yes, but you will be," he responded with a smile.

* * *

Daemonar Yaslana backwinged into the courtyard of his father's eyrie. He wasn't quiet old enough to have reached majority, but he was a few months away. Orian was many more months away, but she was old enough to start her first court at any time. Technically any Queen could form a court as soon as she'd made her offering. Orian still only wore her Summer Sky birthright, but she had a lot of strength in her, and his uncle had already predicted that she would wear the Green. That was the kind of power that Askavi needed. Now that there weren't Queens who'd worn darker jewels in the past who could have taken the post, but the Province and District Queens somehow felt wrong about passing it along to a woman who wasn't… well, Eryien.

Orian was going to be the transition between Andulvar Yaslana and having queens again. Daemonar knew that they didn't really expect her to keep her court for that long, since she'd be young when she assumed her post, but the other queens seemed to feel like they couldn't just pick a woman from one of the short lived races after Andulvar Yaslana. Orian sort of knew this, but Daemonar understood with a cold clarity. He didn't plan for this to be a few year job of Orian. He knew she belonged in this position and as such he had only a short amount of time to discretely pick the best to serve his lady.

He was starting with his number one recruit necessary for this court- "Jillian!" He called with his normal, boyish enthusiasm, waving at her manically like he didn't see her pressing Tamnar against the stone wall, kissing the young warlord very thoroughly. He felt very pleased with himself as he drew nearer, seeing Jillian pull away and Tamnar mutter something probably very profane under his breath.

"What the hell do you want?" Tamnar asked when he got close enough. He hadn't filled out bad, in fact he'd done fairly well for a Summer Sky Warlord. But he was just a guard and in many ways Daemonar did not like him.

"Jillian, lose the dead weight, I need to talk with you," he said. Tamnar spluttered, but Jillian didn't, she understood his tone.

"Tamnar, would you mind leaving us alone?" she asked.

"You're not really gonna just-"Tamnar started.

"Yes, I am," she said with the strength in her voice that noted her rank: that of a superior officer. Jillian was very well trained, and she wore Blood Opal, which meant that she outranks him. Besides that, _no one_ argued with her when she used that tone.

Tamnar nodded and risked her wrath to kiss her cheek before taking off, heading off wherever.

"You really shouldn't be making out with such a low class guard, especially since he's trying to court you," Daemonar said, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, like you don't sleep with every woman who will have you," Jillian said, rolling her eyes.

"That's different. You're way too good for Tamnar, he's just a spot on the floor that a hearth witch hasn't found yet," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Jillian, you are an incredible woman. You wear Blood Opal, and you have been trained to fight, not only by my father, but by Auntie Surreal and even a little bit by Unka Daemon," he said. He'd reverted back to his old name for his uncle, mostly just because he could and he liked pushing Daemon's buttons. "If that doesn't show how much your worth, alone," he pointed out.

"Thank you," she said, a little surprised by such a blunt complement.

"And you're also incredibly sexy," he said with a smirk.

"Ah, there we are," Jillian said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "Now tell me, what in the world do you need from me?" she asked.

"Something very important," Daemonar said , suddenly getting serious. "It's about Orian," he said.

"You didn't get her pregnant did you?" Jillian asked.

"What? No! I'm careful," he said, grumbling.

"Tell your father that," she said. "Or your uncle," she added.

"I did," Daemonar said.

"Oh really?" Jillian asked, leaning against the stone wall.

"My father tried to set some of those lovely little rules he likes to set," he said, rolling his eyes. "And I told him plain and simple that I didn't need them. If I want to sleep with every woman from here to the Hall and back that was my prerogative, not his," he said.

"You didn't!" she gasped, taken in a bit by Daemonar's show (Daemonar was one of the great showmen), but she was smirking.

"Well, after I bruised his delicate sensibilities," he paused while Jillian snorted. "I told him that I like sex a lot, but that my partners are all willing and well aware that I will provide them sex and a confidant in exchange for a welcome to their bed, but I'm not interested in being in love and if they are then they shouldn't go after me. Then I told me that when I inevitably do make mistakes that it's my fault and my job to fix it and I was old enough to deal with my own problems."

"And that worked?"

"Well, I think we now have enough mulch for all of the gardens in Ebon Rih for the next two years," he said with a shrug and Jillian laughed.

"Okay, so what's so bad that you needed to liquor me up with such a story?" Jillian asked and Daemonar smiled. He liked that about her, she was as smart as a whip.

"I spoke to Orian today. After she makes her Offering to the Darkness the Province Queens are going to ask her to be the Queen of Askavi," he said.

"But she's so young!" Jillian said, not alarmed by that so much as figuring out that the Province Queens were up to something.

"They want to use her as a transition so they can get another woman in that spot in a few years," he said. "They feel like they have to bow to Uncle Andulvar's memory, but they want to be back in control," he said.

"And if Orian fails at having a court that large then she'll fail very publically and never-"

"Never be able to have another court, yes, I know," Daemonar said. "Which is exactly what I plan to avoid," he said.

"What's the plan?" she asked.

"Find Orian the best court possible who will serve and protect her, who will be called to her and who will stand with her," he said.

"How are you going to do that?" she asked.

"Well, I'm going to be Orian's First Escort, and I'm recruiting," he said.

"So what do you need me for?" she asked.

"You're going to be Orian's personal guard," he said with a smirk.

"What?" Jillian demanded in a blank, dull voice that was a perfect imitation of his uncle's tone when he was really pissed… damn him for teaching it to her!

"I already listed your qualifications. You are very strong, exceedingly well trained and well qualified, and you are both female and really like Orian," he said. "You're drawn to her like I'm drawn to her… well, not _exactly_ like _I'm_ drawn to her," he said with a chuckle and a smirk.

"Focus," Jillian warned.

"Anyway, you'll be a good addition to the court, because you can fulfill the same function as a male, to protect the Queen, but without being the pain in the ass a male would be," Daemonar said.

"Askavi is safe," Jillian said.

"Safer than where you came from, yes, but not safe," he pointed out. "Especially not from politic games," he added.

"I suck at politics," Jillian said.

"And I'm no better, which is why I need some aristos," he said, gritting his teeth a little. He _hated_ aristos with a passion not seen since his father. "I'm going to go shopping around for males I can't stand for my queen. I'm asking you to help me help her," he said.

Jillian considered for a moment. "Okay, I'll do it," she said.

"Shake on it," he said with a devilish smile, offering her his hand, which she accepted, shaking with a bit too painful grip.

"I'm surprised, you don't have any ulterior motives," Jillian said.

"Oh, I've got those too… tons of those. Most of them involve me finally getting the last of your clothes off and running my tongue over those places that I've been unable to reach before now," he said with a wicked smile.

"Daemonar" Jillian warned.

"What, it's true," he said.

"I'm not one of your girls," she said.

"No, you are a woman, full grown and incredibly sexy," he said.

"Daemonar, I'm over 500 years older than you," she said.

"So what, that's about the gap between my parents," he pointed out. "Besides, older women are very, very attractive."

"I'm not an older woman." Jillian sighed with exasperation. "I'm not going to sleep with you," she stated clearly with great enunciation.

"Then how about making out with me again?" he asked, closing his eyes and puckering up. Jillian shoved her hand in his face, nearly pushing him over if he hadn't expected her to do something _exactly _that obvious.

"You're hopeless," she said.

"Not hopeless," he said with a saucy smile. "I'm too awesome to be hopeless," he said.

"I will dunk you in the closest body of water," Jillian threatened.

"If you can care me that far, and if you don't mind me dragging you in… with that white shirt…" he whistled. "Oh yeah, that'll be a sweet sight to see," he said with a smirk.

Jillian glared at him. In reality they were both fairly attractive for their age bracket. Jillian had finally reached the age where her physical aging would begin to slow. She wouldn't look any older than twenty-one or twenty-two for a few hundred years. He, on the other hand, was still stuck looking eighteen or nineteen.

Daemonar was built a bit like his father, but a bit leaner like his mother. He'd trained as a guard but he preferred to be an escort. He liked libraries better than mountains and in many ways enjoyed his 'Unka Daemon's' company to his father's. That was something that his father found the most irksome, Daemonar assumed anyway. But he did look like his father, had taken after his looks, and even had his hair long like his dad's. He was tall, broad shouldered, very well build from training with the combination of looks that indicated his Eryian ancestry.

Jillian couldn't be more opposite. Her hair was cut so short that though there was enough there that there was no group, Jillian (with proper care) looked very feminine with her hair cut. Her nails were varnished with a hardening agent that made it show she could easily scratch someone's face up. Besides that she was tall, then and trimly built. She didn't have a super figure like her big sister did. Next to her sister she actually looked like a beanpole, but she had something very drawing about her appearance. Tamnar had been drawn to her. So had, for that matter, Daemonar.

"Come on," Daemonar said, offering his arm like a proper Escort and Gentleman. "Shall we plan who and how we will speak to?" he asked.

Jillian chuckled and despite herself she accepted his arm, letting her lead him in.

* * *

A/N: Grah, can't keep my eyes open! I was going to make this a bit longer, but I can't remember what I was going to say. So, tell me what you think?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Meh, kinda sick right now… okay, considerably sick. Let's just hope that this helps me feel better. Jazen's Tale new chapter is tomorrow's project.

EDIT: Added proper spacing between sections.

* * *

"Mama?" Daemonar asked as he entered the Eyrie, knocking lightly. He really was old enough to have a place of his own, but he'd never really gotten around to finding one. He didn't want a place that his family owned. He wanted his own place, and he didn't want anything in Ebon Rih. So he still lived at home… well, he kind of lived at home. He didn't really stay one place for very long. He'd spend a day at home, and then a day at the Hall and then a few days in the mountains and then a few days in the city.

"Oh, you're home early," Marian said, looking up from where she was kneading dough.

"How are the Munchkins?" he asked as he walked in. He rolled up his sleeves and went to the sink, washing his hands before he started helping his mother with the bread.

"I'm sure they wouldn't be happy to hear you say that," Marian said. "Titian has already started her Hour Glass training," she pointed out.

"And Andulvar just got his birthright," Daemonar said a bit bitterly.

"Daemonar, you don't need to talk like that," Marian said. They all understood, in some ways. Andulvar was Lucivar's heir. He'd received his birthright, Sapphire. They couldn't really know what Jewel he would get, but Daemonar knew, the same way he knew that Orian was going to wear Green after her Offering. His Uncle Daemon had confirmed what he thought too. Andulvar would wear Ebon-Gray, like his namesake and his father. Daemonar would never, never be that powerful.

"Okay, I won't," he said, but he couldn't help feeling a bit bitter. He didn't quiet mesh with the rest of them. He made incredible leaps and scared the hell out of his parents. He was crazy enough that he'd gone to his Uncle Daemon and asked him for Black Widow training (not that anyone but the two of them knew it), and he was the one who was about to make them all have a heart attack.

"Are you going to tell me what you want?" Marian asked.

Daemonar looked up and grinned. He was still a youth, he still hadn't grown into who he really was yet, and it was obvious by his boyish charm. He looked almost just like the picture Uncle Daemon had of Lucivar from his youth. "I need to talk to Papa," he said.

"Well, he's not back yet. I hope it won't be as bad as last time. I have enough mulch for the next year after that," she said, shooting her son a look. He smiled in an appeasing manner, which just made her worry more.

"Well, it shouldn't be quiet as bad as last time," he said. "But then again, I'm not sure what could be worse."

"I can think of somethings, but I don't want to imagine them if I can help it," Lucivar said, having arrived in the Eryie only moments before. "What trouble have you gotten into now?" he asked. Daemonar never helped his mother unless he did something wrong, or was just really nervous. He'd made enough bread to start a bakery when he was still a youth and had accidentally broken his father's work table.

"All kinds," Daemonar said. He went and washed the left over dough and flour off his hands before going and kissing his mother's cheek. "Sorry, I need to speak to father now," he said before turning to his father. "Maybe outside's best," he said.

"What in hell have you gotten into now?" Lucivar muttered, following his son out.

Daemonar stretched when they got out, stretching his wings and relaxing. He didn't know, but sometimes such motions made his father hurt just a little, a reminder of how many times he hadn't been allowed to do something so natural… and the fact that his son would never have to experience that. "I have a formal request," Daemonar said, straightening and shifting into a stance that wasn't a fighting stance, but would be with just a small movement.

"Then speak up," Lucivar said, adopting the same stance. Whatever was going on wasn't a small thing, of that he was sure now.

"I need Jillian for one month to act as an escort and consultant," he said.

"For what reason?" Lucivar asked.

"A trip to Terreille," Daemonar said calmly.

"What?" Lucivar asked. "You're joking, right. This better be a practical joke you've cooked up," he said.

"No, Prince, it's not a joke," Daemonar responded, sticking to protocol because he needed his father to take him seriously. "I am going to Terreille for a month, and I'm requesting Jillian's presence as a guard," he said.

"Maybe you should have considered asking permission for such a trip in the first place," Lucivar said.

"I will fully reach the age of majority in thirty-one days. I'm leaving for one month to Askavi in Terreille in Thirty-Two days, and I want Jillian to come with me," he said. "I wouldn't have to ask at all if she wasn't one of your guards," he said, and then took a deep breath. "If you don't grant my request, then I'm going by myself," he said.

"Not if I drag you home over my shoulder," Lucivar snarled.

"Your rights as a legal guardian with a say on my life end in thirty-one days, the same day that I stop being a full citizen of Ebon Rih," Daemonar said. "This isn't up for discussion, I'm going," he said.

Lucivar went silent, sizing up his son. "Why are you going on this trip?" he asked.

"A secret," Daemonar said.

"You better tell me, or Jillian's not going," Lucivar said.

Daemonar considered for a moment. "I will tell you, on the understanding that this gets to no one else, no one," he said. "Not mother, or uncle, or auntie, or anyone else," he said, waiting for Lucivar to nod in agreement. "Orian has been asked to be the Queen of Askavi after she reaches majority and gives her offering," he said.

Lucivar swore. It was plain as day what was going on with this offer. "How do you know this?" he asked.

"Orian told me," he said. "Right before she made me her first Escort," he said.

"Officially?" Lucivar asked.

Daemonar smirked and Lucivar wondered if that was how he looked when he was being infuriating. "Life time contract," he said.

Lucivar swore again. "That still does explain why you're going to Terreille," he said.

"Orian needs twelve very good men, twelve strong men who I can trust around her. So far the only person I've recruited is Jillian, and she's very not male," Daemonar said. "There are a few here that I know call to Orian instantly, but not enough. I know who's in this area, which is why I'm going to Terreille, where I don't know everyone," he said.

"You won't know if they're good or not," Lucivar said.

"I'll know. Grandma said I would," he said, watching Lucivar stiffen. If grandma Tersa knew something was coming it was hard to ignore giving her what she wanted.

"Your grandmother said you would," Lucivar said, almost disbelieving, then he sighed heavily. "See, why can't you just open with that?"

"I'm related to you?" Daemonar offered with a winning smile which earned him a cuff on the head.

"Maybe I'll feel better once you've made your offering," Lucivar said.

"Oh, I'm not going to before I leave," Daemonar said.

"You're not?"

"I'm not ready yet," Daemonar said.

Lucivar groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. "And you seemed like such a good idea," he muttered. "Come on, let's go tell your mother the bad news," he said.

* * *

"So, he actually agreed?" Nurian asked.

"Yes, sis, he did," Jillian said.

"I really wish you wouldn't go," Nurian said.

"Are you going to try and stop me?"

"No, but I'm worried. I don't think Daemonar's a good companion for this trip," she said.

"You realize I'm right here, right?" Daemonar asked.

Nurian ignored him. "You know how he is. He's just trying to take you to bed," she said.

"Oh, I definitely am, but not just anything. We're going for another reason. Grandma Tersa said I had to find something, and I trust Jillian's judgment even more than I trust my own," he said.

"You're both really going?" she asked.

"Yes, in thirty-one days we'll be going," Jillian said.

"What are you two packing for?" she asked.

"Travel, mostly," Daemonar said. "And we're stashing away a good bit of funds." He hadn't told Jillian that most of his money was coming from the gift he'd receive for finally reaching majority.

"Lucivar really said it was okay?"

"I wouldn't say he said okay, but he agreed to let me go," Jillian said.

Nurian sighed heavily. "Alright, fine," she said. Though she would be having a very serious talk with her little sister once Daemonar was gone. The Eryiens who were left would not understand the old ways, and they really wouldn't understand an Eryien girl as a warrior, even though she was a fairly brilliant warrior.

* * *

"You called me, High Lord," Daemonar asked as he entered his uncle's study. Of all his relatives, Daemonar probably liked his uncle the best. He reminded him the most of his Grandfather, someone he often had to fight to remember, though he would still have words come out of his mouth that were not his, but he knew were planted by previous High Lord.

"You're going to Terrielle," Daemon said.

"You're not thinking of coming with me? Because you know I can't let you do that," Daemonar said with a cocky smirk. He saw his uncle's lips twitch and known he'd effectively loosened the tension.

"I didn't think it was possible, but you're even more tactless than your father," Daemon said, leaning back in his seat.

"It's an art, High Lord, one I've had to practice for a long time," Daemonar said with great flourish, sitting down on one of the high backed chairs made to facilitate Eryiens.

"Smart ass," Daemon said with a fond smile. Daemonar, unlike his father, actually didn't get tense very often. When he did it meant he was serious, but if someone else approached him while they were tense he would do anything to try and make them relax. The result of which was that he was probably the only male in the world who could be flippant while his 'Unka Daemon' was in 'High Lord Mode'.

"So, do you want to talk about something, or would you prefer that my dulcet tone lull you to sleep?" he asked.

"You're father says you're going to Terreille," Daemon said again, but no longer as tense as he had been before.

"Did he tell you why?" Daemonar asked, wondering if his father had actually kept his promise.

"He told me that Tersa told you to go," he said.

"That's kind of what she said," Daemonar said.

"She offered you the choice," Daemon said in a way that probably should have been a question, but wasn't. Grandma Tersa, when she offered Daemonar something she'd seen, was normally in the form of two choices.

"Not exactly," Daemonar said.

"You asked for her opinion," Daemon said, elegantly lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them.

"Yes, I did," Daemonar said.

"Because you were practicing with webs I told you not to and saw something," Daemon said.

"Yes," Daemonar said. "But when you're learning something as a secret, you have to take risks, isn't that what you said?"

Daemon looked at him, and for a moment his eyes seemed more yellow than gold. He looked a bit sleepy, his eyes a bit glazed. "That's exactly what I said," The Sadist purred.

"Damn, didn't mean to wake you up," Daemonar said. "You told me that it was dangerous, and it is, and you've told me that this land is dangerous, and I know you're right, but this isn't something I can ignore because it suits me. If anything, I need your help more than ever. I'm leaving in a month and I need to speed up my training… or at least work it as a normal level so I can have as much control as possible," Daemonar said, his voice no longer calm, much more tense.

The High Lord eyed him for a moment before leaning back in his seat. "Your father won't be pleased with you living here for a month, nor will my family be happy with any secret training you may have," he said.

"You'll find a good lie," Daemonar said. "Besides, I think Jaenelle knows… I think grandma knows as well, but both aren't telling anyone," he said.

Daemon nodded slowly, looking at his namesake. For all of the children born between himself and his brother, Daemonar was probably the most like him… or perhaps it was better to say that he was the most like his grandfather. "Alright then," he said. "Are you going to tell me what your reason is for going?"

"A secret, an important one," Daemonar said.

"And?" Daemon pressed.

"The vision I saw. I was standing on the edge of a territory, a border between Jhinka and Eryien territory. I could see a Jhinka village, but they couldn't see me. They were just… being normal, like watching some primitive Landens. Then one of them looked up at me and held my gaze and I felt…"

"You felt?" Daemon pressed.

"Like something would happen to him if I wasn't standing there ," Daemonar said.

"That something would happen to a Jhinka is you weren't there?" Daemon asked.

"No, he wasn't Jhinka, he was Eryien, I could feel it," he said.

"An Eryien in a Jhinka came?" Daemon said.

"I think he was using an illusion, because he looked Jhinka, but there's no way he's one of them, I'm sure," Daemonar said.

"Do you know who this is?"

"Someone important," Daemonar said, flexing his hand so the snake tooth slipped out. It wasn't natural, like his grandfather's hadn't been, but his nails were only as long as they had to be to cover it, and the nail tint he used started a few months back when his sister had done it to annoy him.

Daemon's eyes went to the tooth. "Have you been caring for it like I told you?"

"Yes," Daemonar said.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Not anymore."

"You have to hide it now more than ever," Daemon said. "I won't tell your father that you want to head into Jhinka territory because if they catch you, they will kill you, and your father's going to have a fit if he realizes that's where you're going."

"The Jhinka aren't that bad here," Daemonar pointed out.

"Here is prosperous, and the Jhinka receive little, but have no trouble surviving. Thousands of Jhinka men once came through the gates to attack your father, sacrificing their lives in order to have a chance at something better. Desperate men will do anything," Daemon said. "You can't forget this," he said.

Daemonar shivered a bit. "I won't, I swear I won't," he said softly.

"Alright, then go home. Tell your father I'm requesting you for this last month for a bit of pre-travel training. If I give the okay for you to leave, he'll feel better," Daemon said.

Daemonar stood and bowed a bit. "Thank you, Unka Daemon," he said with a smirk, making his uncle blanch. Daemonar cackled as he walked out, headed for home. He needed to pack some clothes and say goodbye to his family before he could begin his training.

* * *

A/N: Written while I was very sick, but I wanted to get it done. Daemonar, you're really going to surprise me with you being a Black Widow? Why such the secrecy?

Oh well, at least I'll get to use some of my Jhinka characters!

I do apologize for this being a bit shorter than I expected.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: What took me so long with this? It's a long story. Mostly, I had to free Einar from an RP I had him tied up in. Jin was always going to be here, but I decided to change some things around. You'll understand what I mean later.

* * *

Daemonar didn't sigh, much to his credit. It was a well ignored fact in his family that the witchstorm his Aunt Jaenelle had released had saved the blood in Kaeleer, at the cost of the blood in Terrielle who didn't have the resources or knowledge to return to how they should have been. Shalador Nehele and Dena Nehele, as well as the territories around it who had bothered to go into the flourishing territories and ask for help were about the only flourishing areas in Terrielle. The rest were societies based on the lies Dorothea had written, with a feeling that they were lies, but no understanding of the truth. Hayll was possibly the worst off, but Askavi wasn't far behind it.

They had been in Askavi for two and a half weeks, and found no one that Daemonar considered suitable for the work. He hadn't met everyone, but sometimes he had to remind himself that the people left had survived the witchstorm for a reason. The man who'd tried to make a pass on Jillian simply didn't have a left hand anymore. It had been a kindness that made him leave the man's right. After that they'd stopped going into towns.

"We'll need to buy some supplies at some point," Jillian said. She had no point camping. They were edging around the hunting camps they found. Just like Daemonar had an incident in the towns they'd visited, Jillian had an incident in the hunting camps. Of course hers involved a crossbow aimed at a man's balls… not that she'd fired it, she'd just used Auntie Surreal's manner of negotiation.

"Yeah, but there's also hunting we can do," Daemonar said.

"No a whole lot, no," Jillian said bluntly. Truthfully, the ground was parched and the animals thin. It was almost unsporting to hunt them.

"Yeah, okay, fine," Daemonar said.

"You want to tell me why you've been on edge all day?" she asked.

"No," Daemonar said.

"Daemonar," Jillian said in her warning tone, crossing her arms over her chest and raising one eyebrow. Daemonar looked at her and sighed.

"You look so delicious like that," he said.

"I'm not going to sleep with you," she said.

"I didn't sleep well," he said.

"That's not going to make me come to your bed roll," she said.

"No, I know it isn't. I was telling you why I'm not myself today," he said.

Jillian smiled, just a bit, not enough to encourage him. "Well, neither of us have been at our best," she said. Which was true. Terreille set her on edge, old memories of a time before she'd lived in a place where she could fly without fear, memories of a man who'd lived in her home, who'd strapped her for trying to be too male, and a reminder that there was nowhere in which such people didn't exist. The fact that Askavi Terreille was so different from Askavi Kaeleer was also a reminder of what she could have suffered instead.

"Yeah," Daemonar agreed quietly. He had only told her a half truth. In reality he'd been on edge the past few days not because of the people they'd met or the situations they'd seen, or even the overwhelming sense that what they saw should be so much more than what it was. He'd had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, just like the feeling he'd had before he'd spun the web that told him to come to Terreille. He'd finally surrendered to that feeling the previous night and spun the web in secret while Jillian slept.

What he saw bothered him, the vision of a man, a Jhinka, not the one from his previous vision, a different one. This one stood on the edge of a battlefield, or more a field of slaughter, a man whose body count include men, warriors, but also women, children, the elderly, both Jhinka and Eryiens. The man turned and looked at him and Daemonar had felt something in himself go to the man, a sense of companionship, a sense that under his skin he was this man. And when he woke from his vision, the one thing that bothered him the most is that he knew the man he saw was very Jhinka… and very much a Warlord Prince.

"We need to go to town," Daemonar said suddenly.

"I thought you wanted to avoid towns," Jillian said exasperatedly.

"I know what I said, but I just have a feeling," he said.

Jillian went silent before nodding. "Okay," she said. He had feelings before, and she trusted them to be right. In this case, it was just a feeling. It wasn't a feeling at all. He just wanted information. If a man existed, like one in his vision, then there would be people who would know, and they would be in town.

They paused long enough to change, or Jillian did. Daemonar pulled on one of his nicer shirts; he had a thing for silk that his father just didn't understand. Jillian pulled on an actual dress. The first was a little higher than normal so she wouldn't trip over it, but wider so she could actually move and he knew she was wearing her slacks underneath. She took her job as his guard very, very seriously and always had. Daemonar found that sexy.

The pair of them walked into town, into a tavern, both wearing their jewels. Daemonar wasn't by any means weak, but it was unnerving to walk into a town and know that you are the strongest there, and that the woman beside you is the second strongest, and the third strongest might wear Summer Sky, if they're lucky. There wasn't any way they couldn't say they were from Kaeleer, people as strong as them didn't live in Askavi, not any more.

"Good evening Prince, Lady," a woman said. "Can I interest you in something?" she asked.

"Whiskey," Jillian said, finding a seat at the bar, Daemonar sitting on her right.

"Double," he said, trying to make her look a little more feminine.*You know, there's no point in dressing like a girl, if you're not going to act like one*, he sent on an opal thread.

*Then you should wear the dress next time,* Jillian responded before cutting the link.

Daemonar snorted, but at that point the barmaid was back with their drinks. "How about a meal?" she asked.

"Sounds good," Daemonar said. "Bring us whatever's best, two of them," he added.

"Most people like to know what I'm bringing them," the woman said, he wings fluttering nervously, tightening against her. Daemonar smiled. He could feel her fear, but he reached out and took her hand, holding it with both of his large hands.

"I swear to you madam, I may be a flirt, but Jillian would kill me if I did anything worth your discomfort," he said, nodding to Jillian. "I'm just a very hungry man, and I trust that you're not going to poison my meal," he said. "So, will you go get us something?" he asked with his easily disarming smile.

The woman glanced at Jillian who nodded, and then she moved away, heading to the back to go get their food. "You're going to get in trouble for flirting like that one day," Jillian said, sipping her whiskey in a way that only Jillian could. No person should sip alcohol so daintily. She did it to annoy him, and it worked.

"Yeah, yeah," he said before a hand slammed down on the bar on the other side of him.

"Hey," the voice attached to the hand said, far too carefully controlled. There was anger there. Daemonar looked over to the man who was trying to get his attention. Here was the summer sky, and a Warlord Prince. Daemonar smirked.

"Don't kill him," Jillian said, not bothered enough to look over.

Daemonar turned on his bar stool. It swiveled, which amused him. He'd have to take that idea home to Riada, surely someone would be interested in such an thing. "Hey," Daemonar chirped, offering the man a disarming smile. He was a big guy, bigger than Daemonar, and he hand his hair cut very short, though he also had a trimmed beard. So he wasn't full Eryien, men of the long lived races didn't grow facial hair. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The man was, in fact, disarmed by the smile because he hadn't expected it. He became more aware that this youth wore a Jewel that was three times as strong as his own. "I don't know about where you're from, but you can't be pawing at our women," the man said.

Daemonar was surprised, but pleased. He grinned. "Is she your girl?" he asked.

"No, what the hell are you grinning at?" he asked.

"I could kiss you," Daemonar said. "Jillian, look at this, we finally found a man after being here two and a half weeks," he said.

"We found men before," Jillian said, having no idea what the hell he was talking about. She did turn to look at the man, though.

"No, we found males, boys really, but we actually found a man this time," Daemonar said, pounding the man's shoulder when he should have been patting him on the back. "Say, what's your name, old son?" he asked the now very befuddled Eryien.

"Orvar, are you on something?" he asked.

"No, no!" Daemonar said. "My name's Daemonar, and you are the first man of character we've met since we got here!" he said. "I am as pleased as punch to meet a man who's willing to stand up to a Warlord Prince who outranks him in order to protect a female, especially one who isn't his girl. You are a fine person," he said.

Orvar looked over at Jillian, who was busy stealing Daemonar's drink, already having finished her own. "He's always this crazy," she said, pouring his drink into her empty glass. "But he is right that you're the first decent person we've met in three weeks, just to tell you the state of things," she said.

"What, you some of the lot that left Askavi for another territory?" he asked.

"I traded one Askavi for another, Daemonar was born there," Jillian said.

The man's eyes widened. "You're from Kaeleer."

"Ding, ding, get the man a prize," Jillian said, raising her glass like she toasting him.

"What are you lot doing here then?" Orvar asked.

"A secret mission," Daemonar said, tugging him down on the bar stool next to him. "We're looking for people," he said. "Ah, thanks for the food miss," he said as the barmaid came over with large plates of food, some kind of fish and potato dish. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Thorian," she said, a tiger's eye jewel hanging around her neck. "Osvar, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Daemonar's twisting his head into loops. It happens to the best of us," Jillian said. "The last time he did that to his father he nearly got killed," she added.

"Come on, it was nowhere near 'nearly'. He just-"

"Just destroyed enough wood to make mulch for your mother for a year, and chopped enough wood that no one in Riada needs to go chop any for the winter," Jillian. She glanced that Thorian, watching her suck her lips in to keep from smiling.

"Oh come on, that's an overstatement," he said.

"Okay, maybe it is, but it's still enough wood that your father had to tell people to come get some. Half the town came and he's still trying to give it away," Jillian said.

"What did he do?" Thorian asked. Daemonar could play anyone, but sometimes his tactics bothered people more than put them at ease. Jillian was the opposite. She could put people at ease and get information by it, especially if Daemonar was also involved. It was how they gathered information.

"Well, Daemonar's father has this thing about setting boundaries, in that you don't break them… ever, or he breaks your head. One of Papa Daemonar's favorites is setting exactly how much sexual contact you can have with another person. Daemonar, the play boy that he is," she shot Daemonar a glance who just beamed. "Goes and tells his father that if he wants to sleep with every woman from his front doorstep to hell and back then he could and it was none of his father's business."

By this point Thorian and even Osvar were chuckling. It wasn't so much the story, but Jillian's perfectly deadpan inflection. "What did his father do?" Thorian asked like Daemonar wasn't there, making him pout over dramatically. It made her giggle.

"Well, I'm not actually sure. Daemonar, what did he do?" Jillian asked.

"Well, father got really quiet. I think he was trying to decide if I was a threat to the female population or if I was just being a stupid kid, and then I know he was seriously contemplating putting me out of his misery. Then he turned around and flew to the keep," he said.

"He ran away?" Osvar asked, not believing that an Eryien warrior would run like that.

"I think the term is that he beat a strategic retreat," Daemonar said with a brilliant smile, making their two man audience laugh.

"Your father sounds like quiet a stickler for rules," Thorian said, trying to hide her smile behind her hand.

"He is for protocol, which is why he figured out he didn't have to kill me. I'm not breaking any of the rules. I'm doing what I want, no one suffers from what I do. It's really… a trade of services," he said.

"You make it sound like you work in a red moon house," Osvar said and Daemonar laughed.

"No, my body and mind come at the price of an open invitation and an understanding that I'm not interested in being in love," Daemonar said.

Osvar didn't laugh this time. "That's unhealthy," he said.

"Oh please," Thorian said, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Osvar asked.

"You're maybe the saddest man in the town cause you keep running after Adrian," Thorian said.

"Are you on about that again? I love Adrian, and she loves me back," Osvar said.

"Oh please, you're the strongest blood in the town, and in the surrounding towns, and you're a warlord prince. She's just using you because she thinks it's the best deal for her," Thorian said.

"Look, if she is using me, what business is it of yours?" Osvar asked with the air of a man who'd just been told off one too many times. "I'm happy, she's happy and we're happy together. That's what I want out of my life. I don't need you butting in as well," he snapped and got up, walking off.

Daemonar reached out and took Thorian's hand. "You don't want him to know you love him, right?" he asked.

Thorian looked at the younger Eryien, but didn't answer. She didn't need to; it was in her whole body. She held herself like she'd just been dealt a hard blow, and was trying to defend herself from the killing strike. She wasn't crying, but she cast her eyes down after flicking up to follow after Osvar.

"Is that girl really so bad?" Daemonar asked gently.

"No," Thorian said softly. "She's not bad. She's the town beauty, and every man wants her, and I don't think she'll ever marry Osvar or have children with him… she likes pure bloodlines. But she makes him happy and sometimes I just can't stand it," she said softly. She looked down, watching Daemonar's thumb stroke the back of her hand.

"Because you really do love him, and you wish he would figure it out… because you can't say it. If you do say it and he says no, you'll feel like you'll just break into pieces," Daemoanr said with so much understanding in his voice.

"You have this problem?" she asked.

"My best friend, Orian does… although she has the problem of literally falling for the biggest jerk our territories have to offer. I think she's trying to do the rest of the female population a favor. We have to run every guy out that she dates. Maybe if she dates enough then we'll finally get rid of all the bastards," he said.

"I doubt it," Thorian said, sniffling.

"I do to, but I'm trying to put a positive spin on something that makes my teeth itch," he said blankly.

"Your friend… do you love her?" Thorian asked.

"Are you asking if I've slept with her?" Daemonar asked. "The answer to that question is yes, often. I'm the rebound, which I'm fine with because she knows I'm safe and that I'm not in love with her. I'm not in love with her, but I adore her. She's my best friend, and I hope she stays that way," he said.

"She's lucky then," Thorian said. "To have you to look after her."

"Don't tell him that, his head will inflate," Jillian said. She chuckled a bit when Daemonar stuck his tongue out at her and Thorian laughed. She wiped moisture away from her eyes that she could easily say came from laughing so hard.

"Thank you," Thorian said. Her eyes traveled to Osvar again before looking back at Daemonar. "Why don't you eat before your food gets cold," she said, winking in a flirtatious manner. Daemonar smirked. He knew what she wanted and he was happy to give it to her… maybe staying in town for one night couldn't hurt.

* * *

Morning woke Thorian through open shutters, or better to say that the Morning woke her from around the naked form of an Eryien man. "Bright," she muttered.

"I take it you're a night owl," Daemonar said, turning and flashing her a brilliant smile. He did shut the shutters though, starting to move around her small apartment. "How about I make you eggs?" he asked.

"Don't be silly, men can't cook," Thorian grumbled from her mattress on the floor. She hadn't been able to afford a bedframe when she first got her apartment. Every time she saved up enough she found something else she liked better, like her new ice box.

"My father cooks… not well, but it's edible," Daemonar said. "Besides, my mother's a hearth witch. I would help her cook when it was her day to watch me," he said, still with that brilliant smile.

"I bet that made her so happy," Thorian said sarcastically, rubbing her eyes so she could better watch the perfectly naked man move around her kitchen.

"Not at first. I'm a trouble maker down to my bone marrow, but I come by it naturally. According to my Grandfather I was just like my Father when he was little," he said proudly. "But I think mother likes that I can and do cook fairly well. Titian takes after her name sake and my father's mother. She's a Black Widow. Mother's proud, of course, but I think she's figuring out that it's unlike that she'll ever have a girl she can share her love of simple craft…" he trailed off, smiling a bit.

"You enjoy it, don't you?" Thorian asked, pulling the sheet up around her body to fight off the chill in the room.

"My father has no idea, but the reason I start baking when I'm scared is because I find it soothing," Daemonar said. "Mother knows… I think it helps her a bit," he added.

"You're bitter," Thorian said.

"Yeah, you know, I am," Daemonar said like he was both agreeing with something obvious and just realizing it himself.

"What are you bitter over?" Thorian asked, and Daemonar let out a very heavy sigh. "Come on, I told you my secret last night, it's only fair," she prodded.

"No, I told you your secret last night," Daemonar said.

"Well, you want me to tell you yours? You're upset because you think your father doesn't care about you enough. You're worried that you won't live up to what he wants and so instead of trying you do exactly what you want instead," she said.

Daemonar stopped what he was doing to turn and look at her. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"I have brothers," Thorian said simply and shrugged. "So, now you owe me some specifics," she said.

"Alright, fine," he said, starting to beat the eggs he'd gotten from the cold box. He poured them into the frying pan, using craft to simultaneously grate cheese and chop a bit of left over ham and vegetables. She wondered what the hell he was doing. "It's Andulvar," he said with frustration and disgust.

"Andulvar? The Demon Prince?" she asked, disbelieving. No one in Terreille named their sons Andulvar, it just wasn't done, so she didn't make that connection. Instead she wondered why he was getting so upset over a legend.

"No," he said. "My little brother's name is Andulvar," he said.

"Okay…" she said, trailing off for a minute, a little weirded out that his little brother was named after the Demon Prince. "What's wrong with your brother?"

"Nothing!" Daemonar said. "That's just it! He's bloody perfect!" he snapped. "He's younger than me, went through his birthright and is already stronger than me! And he's just like father, I mean exactly. He makes all the same leaps, thinks similar, acts similar. He's father's heir… and here I am, the oldest and I have to make something for myself because I'm going to be left in the rain if I don't!" he finished his rant. He'd been holding it in for many, many years, but he'd felt it almost from the day his little brother was born.

"He's stronger than you?" Thorian asked, disbelieving. "His birthright is stronger than your descended jewel?" she aksed.

"What? No! That would be insane, especially since I haven't gone through the offering yet," he muttered, adding vegetables, cheese and meat to the omelet he was making.

"You haven't made your offering yet?" Thorian squeaked. It was hard enough to believe that blood could be so strong after the Witchstorm to have Green as their descended jewel, but it was his birthright. "What does your brother have?" she asked.

"Andulvar wears Sapphire," Daemonar said.

"Sapphire," Thorian said, breathlessly. A Sapphire could yield an Ebon-Gray, but she was trying to not think of that. "You don't know… he might not be as strong as you," she said.

"No, he will be, and stronger," Daemonar said bitterly.

"But how do you know?" she asked.

"I just do," Daemonar said darkly, flipping the omelet expertly.

"So your brother's going to wear Ebon-gray, and he's your father's heir?" she asked. "Who in all the realms…" she started, but couldn't say it. It was too terrifying to be true.

"Lucivar Yaslana… My brother is going to be as strong as my father, as his namesake… and I'm just…" he shrugged.

"Daemonar," she squeaked. "It's not a common Eryien name," she said, not voicing the question she suddenly had to know.

"No, in fact I think it's one of a kind… named after my uncle Daemon," he said.

"Uncle Daemon," Thorian said breathlessly, considering. "Are you like him?"

"He taught me a lot," Daemonar said. He flipped the omelet onto a plate and brought it over to her with a fork. He grinned when he saw her face. "Let's just say that he wasn't any happier with me about my declaration to sleep with every woman between my doorstep and hell," he said.

"Oh, my," Thorian said, accepting her omelet. She carefully cut a bite and let out a moan. "Mother Night! This is delicious!" she gasped.

"I'll teach you the recipe… you can serve it in the tavern in the mornings," he suggested.

"I don't work the morning shift," Thorian said.

"Well, you can trade it for something," he said.

He started working on a second one for him, and Thorian at her food. For a while there was simply companionable silence, at least until Thorian finished. She stood and walked over to her sink, starting to wash her plate. "Thank you for breakfast," she said, leaning over and kissing his cheek.

"You finish quickly," he said, beaming.

"You get over things quickly, don't you?" Thorian asked.

"I suppose so… mostly I just don't feel the need to stay angry if I can help it," he said.

"Do you have someone that you love?" she asked.

"You mean someone I'm in love with. I have plenty of people that I love," Daemonar said, focused on making his omelet perfect.

"It's Jillian, right?" Thorian asked.

"What makes you say that?" Daemonar asked, still focused on his work.

"It's the way you speak to her. It's like you two just… fit somehow," she said.

"Try telling her that," Daemonar muttered.

"What, she doesn't like it?"

"She's half a century older than me, and sees me like a little brother. Besides, she's got an annoying lover to contend with," he said.

"Surely he'll back off if you stake a claim," she said.

"She'll reject me out right if I do that," Daemonar said. "Besides… I'm not willing to give my lifestyle up just yet… and if I did then you'd have had a real lonely night last night," he said, flipping his omelet onto a plate and going to sit at her kitchen table.

"Last night was… interesting," Thorian said.

"Oh come on, I know I'm better than interesting," he said.

Thorian stuck her tongue out at him. "What I mean is that… it's just different. I'm not used to a casual lover," she said.

"But it was fun, not stressful, yes?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Really no strings attached," he said.

"Yes."

"Well, of course, once you find a man, it'll stop, but while I'm in town your free to call on me," he said.

"Just… how long are you going to be here anyway?" she asked.

"Hmm… no idea. I need to get some information, and then I can go," he said.

"What information?" she asked.

"Eh, Jhinka doing weird things," he said dismissively.

"Oh yeah, we know about that around here," she said.

"What, really?" he asked, sitting up straighter.

"Yeah, I mean there's this Jhinka who just kills everyone, I mean he's slaughtered Jhinka villages, and landen Eryiens… even some of the blood. It's really…"

"Wrong," Daemonar filled in and Thorian nodded.

"Of course, I don't know all of it, but the men at the bar do. You should talk to them," she suggested.

"I believe I will," he said, setting down his fork so he could take her hand and kiss the back. "You're a doll."

"Yeah, yeah, eat up and get dressed, I have things I need to do today," Thorian said with a smirk.

Daemonar laughed. "I see you've been taking lessons from Jillian, okay, just don't rush my through my food," he said. The rest of the morning passed uneventfully.

* * *

A/N: You have no idea how much of a pain this was for me to finish, it took me an evening, a day and another evening. I started out writing to the extended cut of the _American Capitalist_ album by Five Finger Death Punch (My preferred writing music, and where the name of this fic came from. The third song down on that album (and possibly my favorite) is "The Pride". ) Now I'm on the extended cut of _Born This Way_ by Lady Gaga… if I was listening to that album when I started it, this fic easily could have been called "Judas" or something else insane. This fic keeps changing what it wants to be. I thought it was going to be a straight forward "Orian getting her court, Daemonar helping" fic, with the twist of Dae being in love with Jillian, but then Daemonar's a total playboy who plays the edges of life. Then he tells me that he's a black widow (which I'm still really pissed about!), and now he's become rather… gah! Daemonar, what are you doing to me? Why is that your energy and mode swings don't seem wrong for you? You're driving me nuts! No wonder your entire family wants to murder you!

Yes, Daemonar has actual family issues. The thing is that you don't have to have epic painful things happen to have family problems: everyone has them. It's simply the nature of living so close to people for so long. It's also the nature of being forced to love people you don't like. Daemonar worried about not being enough for his father. In his childhood he was referred to as the 'Little Beast'. Lucivar and Daemon don't know better, but that's not really a great thing to call a child, especially since Lucivar also tells his son that he seemed like a good idea at the time. It's just Lucivar letting out stress and exercising his own brand of humor, but Daemonar feels like he has to live up to those words… and so he does… and it's driving me nuts.

Honestly, Jin's story was going to be a version of how he was found, but Einar came from an RP, and I dropped him as a character from that so I could use him here… and I love their dynamic so much I had to use it! I know you still have no idea what's going on with the Jhinka. I mean to get to it this chapter, but Thorian and Osvar took over… even in ways I didn't expect. One of my major complaints about the series as it stands now is that Terreille is completely ignored in favor of the perfectly happy lives of Kaeleer… looks like the Eryiens are just insisting on having their day in the sun!

Also, for clarification: I used to think that the Jhinka were the landen version of Eryiens, but that makes no sense. About 10% of all races is Blood… except that there are no Jhinka blood. This means that 1) something's really wrong with the Jhinka and 2) there are Landens of the long lived race.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I was going to work on _Jazen's Tale_, because this one will quickly become a complicated mess, but this one got a strangle hold on me. Here's a fun fact: Osvar's name should actually be Orvar, which is an actual Scandinavian name. Osvar is because I'd been reading The Young Doyler's web comic _Knights Errant_. Oswald got blended with Orvar, and so now his name is Osvar, which is easier for me to remember anyway.

* * *

The second Daemonar left Thorian's room he headed straight back to the bar. He probed as he went, easily finding Jillian buying supplies. She was smart. So far nothing had blown up in their faces, but they never knew, and they wanted to spread some of the money they had with around a bit. It was hard to see people of their race living like they were when in Kaeleer they had so much wealth.

Daemonar discovered Osvar in the bar, talking with a group of Eryiens and as such he headed right to their table. "Many good mornings to you gentlemen!" he exclaimed with great gusto, making the men give him uncomfortable looks.

"You're still here," Osvar said, recognizing the young man.

"Oh, the mighty and wonderful Osvar," Daemonar said, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the table. "Who are your friends?" he gave off a charming smile and a sense that he didn't notice that no one at the table wanted him.

Osvar gave his three companions and apologetic look. "This is my Cousin Alnar," he said, noting a yellow jeweled warlord. "And Profenar," he said, nothing a rose jeweled warlord. "And this is Kemar," he added, nodding to a Tiger's eye warlord. Daemonar wondered if he was looking at the most powerful men in the town.

"It's a pleasure," Daemonar said. "My name is Daemonar Yaslana," he said, smiling as the others blanched a bit at him using that name.

"You're really daring to use that name?" the one called Profenar asked.

"What, my ridiculous first name that my father have me? Or the last named I inherited from him?" he asked. He smiled broader when he saw how uncomfortable the men looked. "Seems you've heard of Lucivar Yaslana here," he said. "Not that I'm bragging, I just need a bit of information and I don't need you to steer me the wrong way because you think it's fun to play a prank on the youngster, even though I wear the Green and far away can overpower you all," he said, smirking now.

"What do you want to know?" Osvar asked, wondering exactly who the young man was under the cheerful masks he wore.

"I'm looking for information on some Jhinka, the kind that have been causing problems," he said.

"Aren't they always," Kemar said, sipping from his tankard.

"These ones are special. There's only one or two of them and they can kill blood," he said. He watched the table get very quiet. "You know who I'm asking about, don't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, we know exactly who you mean," Profenar said. He took a big swig from his tankard, emptying it before he started to tell his story. "I saw them," he said. "A pair of them… but no one believes me. See, a few years ago there was problems where some of our villages would be destroyed, and it was clearly a Jhinka attacker by the wounds, but these weren't just our Landen villages, there were the blood. Everyone was dead: men, women, children, all were dead and many of them had their jewels destroyed or their minds were dust or they were destroyed in the way that only a blood could do," he said. He looked worried.

"And the same thing was happening to Jhinka villages," Alnar said. "You know they fight amongst themselves, and sometimes if the skirmish gets too close we have to investigate… but there was this one nearby… completely wiped out. Clearly a Jhinka attack… but clearly a blood attack," the man said. He looked worried. The idea of blood and Jhinka working together was like a cat and a mouse being best friends. It was just wrong. Of course the men were worried.

"You said there were two Jhinka," Daemonar prodded, feeling like he could see what they thought but didn't want to say: that a blood was helping a Jhinka… but he had another fear boiling in the pit of his stomach, another deeper fear that he wouldn't acknowledge.

"I saw them," Profenar said softly. "Though no one believes me… I was keeping watching through the pass when I heard voices. I went to see what they were and it was these two Jhinka yelling at each other in their own tongue," he said, knowing that none of them would know the Jhinka language. In fact the Jhinka tongue sounded wrong and grotesque to them. "But there was this one of them, he wore a green jewel. He was trying to fight against the other one. He threw so much power against the other who just ignored his attacks until the green jeweled one tried to attack him, then he slammed him into the dirt."

"Alnar likes to hit the drink," Kemar said.

"No more than you, and I don't drink on the job, I never do," Profenar said, looking down at his drink.

"You do drink a lot," Osvar said sympathetically.

"I know what I saw!" Profenar snapped. "I'm not insane!"

"No," Daemonar said calmly. "I believe you," he said softly, making all of them look at him. "I heard news of these strange Jhinka. I'm actually here looking for them, someone from another town asked for help at the Keep and they sent me," he said. "My partner and I are hunting after them. It would be useful if you could direct me to where you last saw them," Daemonar said.

"Don't lie to us," Alnar said. "You don't have a partner, unless you're thinking of taking a woman with you into the mountain."

"Well… why wouldn't I?" Daemonar asked. "You men seem to have forgotten, but there is an entire other place where the old laws are followed. Jillian is one of my father's best guards. She trained with my father and Hallevar and my Aunt Surreal, who before marrying my uncle was one of the most famous red moon workers, and one of the best assassins Terrielle had ever seen… and Jillian trained with my uncle Daemon, so no, I don't see any reason not to take her," Daemonar said coldly.

"Don't… be hard on Alnar," Osvar said, stumbling over his words a bit because he hadn't expected the youth to be able to get so angry. "We don't have enough women here. We work hard to protect them… we have such a small number of Queens too… we heard a few years ago that a territory up north got a lot of help from Kaeleer and a Queen from Kaeleer… but we never did. All we got was that we needed to protect our women," he said.

Daemonar sighed and called in his set of protocol books. He referred to them often, but left them on the table. "These are un-doctored books from protocol from Kaeleer, and least this is my set. The way things are interpreted here versus my home are supposedly very different… but this is the best I can offer you… though you can also get some help if you're willing to go to the Keep and ask," he said. "Don't worry, Draca's not as scary as she seems," he added with a wolfish smile before looking back at Profenar. "So?"

"So?" Profenar asked.

"Will you take me to where you saw those Jhinka?" Daemonar asked.

Profenar considered it before nodding a bit. "I will," he said. "When?"

"Give me an hour to get Jillian and whatever supplies she's bought all settled and tried to sober up a little," he added, seeing that Profenar was more drunk than the others… not that Daemonar blamed him. He was tempted to drink to. If what the warlord said was true then not only were their Jhinka who were blood, but they were strong enough to wear Green… and one of them was even stronger than Green, and from the description he might even wear stronger than Sapphire.

* * *

The hour passed and Daemonar and Jillian met Profenar out at the town square. "Follow me," was all the man said, taking them up to the Rose wind, riding up to the mountains and landing. The Warlord prince and witch followed the rose jeweled warlord up and up and up into one off the mountain passes that the non-blood would use to get to Askvai if they couldn't find or afford a carriage ride.

"This is where I saw them," Profenar said.

"And how long ago was this?" Daemonar asked.

"Two and half months ago," the Eryien man said.

"So they could be long gone by now," Jillian grumbled. She hadn't been filled in completely. Only that they were going after Jhinka who were able to kill blood.

"Have there been any more killings?" Daemonar asked.

"Four months ago they stopped… but travelers through the pass started to be robbed more often… in fact a couple of guards would found dead, but there wasn't a slaughter like before," Profenar said.

"Thank you," Daemonar said, calling in a silver mark and slipping it into his hand. "Try not to drink so much, I believe that what you saw is real… and if I do my job right you'll never have to see them again," he said.

"You're going to Kaeleer when you finished?" Profenar asked, he vanished the mark.

"Yes, we plan to return home at the end of the month," Daemonar said.

"Will you take some of us with you?" Profenar asked in a breathless voice.

"I don't know," Daemonar said, stunned by the question.

"Daemonar!" Jillian snapped, stunned that he'd say such a thing.

"I don't know! It's not like I rule anything," he sighed and looked back at Profenar. "I can help you get through… but if you get turned down then you'll have to go home," he said.

"It's fine," Profenar said. "Our town is so weak right now… it's not just our power. We're so broke. Our land won't heal and we can't figure out why. You said that people interpret things differently in Kaeleer… If some of us could just go for a few months or years, earn some money to be able to send home… maybe find out what we can about the old ways… There are a few of us who would trade everything for that chance," Profenar said and Daemonar saw the desperation in his eyes. He wanted to badly to make that go away, but he didn't know how.

"Alright," Daemonar said quietly. "I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything," he told the man. "Now, go home, we'll return to you before we leave, I swear on my honor that if I'm alive I will return," he said.

"Thank you," Profenar said and took off, flying home.

"You think we can help them?" Jillian asked.

"It depends on how open Father in to having more Eryiens in Riada… especially since this lot might actually want to return here eventually," Daemonar said.

"Daemonar… what aren't you tell me about these Jhinka we're going after?" Jillian asked.

"A lot," Daemonar said. "I spoke with my grandmother and with my uncle… they seem to think that there might be someone in the Jhinka territory who could help me… from what I heard I thought it was a blood pretending to be Jhinka… but now I'm not so sure," he said.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"If Profenar is right… then there are two Jhinka who are blood… and they may very well be stronger than the both of us," he said.

"Really?" Jillian asked, looking equal parts excited and sick. She couldn't hide it well, but she liked trouble and adventure every bit as much as he did.

"Yes, so shield up," Daemonar said, he waited for her to put up an opal shield before up put a shield around her and she shielded again. She did the same for him, putting a shield around him in between two Greens. It was something they'd done since they were younger, a protection, and they were going to need it now more than ever.

They headed into the pass, walking quietly. Jillian had her pants on, and from far away she'd probably be mistaken for a man, two Eryien males traveling through the pass would be suspicious, but Daemonar had a feeling that this would be exactly why the Jhinka would attack and he was right.

Half way through there was a loud shout, a Jhinka war cry. Daemonar called in his war blade and so did Jillian and they took to the skies. The one who attacked them who they could see threw a green agains them, Daemonar intercepted the blast. It hurt, but his shields held. He had a stronger Green, which was in his favor. The Jhinka with his long grey hair fought like a Jhinka and a little like an Eryien, but mostly he threw out his power. He had no finesse, he was feral, which worked fine if he was against a weaker opponent, but he wasn't. Daemonar was also maybe one of the best trained Eryiens alive too, and he could tell the Jhinka knew it from the panic that came into his eyes. Daemonar smirked and was about to give chase when a strong blast hit him, strong enough to shatter his green shield.

He turned and found himself being attacked from above by another Jhinka. Daemonar blocked, but the Jhinka started to drive him towards the ground, leaving Jillian alone with the green jeweled Jhinka. Daemonar wasn't worried. Jillian was very well trained and his green shield for protect her for a time, and it would take the Jhinka a bit of power to break down the blood opal outer shield.

The man he was fighting, this had him worried, because he saw something he didn't want to see. He'd known in his heart that the Jhinka who could take green attacks and not be bothered by them had to wear more than Sapphire, but he hadn't expected more than red. This man wore grey, he was looking at a Jhinka man who wore the Grey!

They hurtled toward the ground, Daemonar finally able to pull out of the dive and land, just as the Jhinka did. "It seems I must apologize. Einar does like to rush in," the Jhinka said.

"I didn't think Jhinka liked having Eryien names," Daemonar said, holding his war blade ready to attack. This man was dangerous. He was really trained and he was cautious. Daemonar had almost no advantages.

"He doesn't. I gave it to him and told him he could change it when he could beat me," the Jhinka said with a smirk.

Daemonar chuckled, unable to help himself. "I take it he doesn't like that either."

"Nope, but he's and idiot," the Jhinka said, flashing a smile.

Daemonar smiled too. "He's a terrible fighter. I've seen wolves that fought better," he said, and he meant that.

"Me too," the jhinka said. "Why aren't you trying to kill me right now?"

"Because you're stronger than me and I'm not stupid, and because a black widow had a vision that told me I needed to find two Jhinkas who were Eryiens," he said, shifting his stance just a bit so he wasn't quite so battle ready. It gave him a disadvantage, but it also taught him something about the Jhinka: he recognized it not as a weakness but as a purposeful concession and did the same, but more, allowing Daemonar a slight advantage.

"No, you're not stupid… and you're a lot stronger than the other Eryien's I've fought," the man said.

"I'm not from here," Daemonar said.

"Clearly," the other man said, looking up at where Jillian and Einar were fighting furiously in the sky. "A woman who'd a warrior."

"Jillian's one of the best guards where I'm from," Daemonar said.

"I don't doubt it," the man said. He looked back at Daemonar. "You interest me. What do you say we break up our friends and have a conversation.

"I'd say that's perfect," Daemonar said, smiling easily. "And one more thing… race ya!" he said, take off into the sky.

"You bastard!" The Jhinka shouted from the ground, taking off. Neither of them could understand why, but they were so easily drawn to one another. Their personalities meshed somehow. They flew up and grabbed their friends… more Daemonar got Jillian out of the way and calmed her down. The Jhinka grabbed Einar and had to drive him into the dirt and sit on him before he'd calm down.

"Your friend sucks," Jillian said when they landed. She'd been winning, probably would have won because she knew how to conserve he energy and the Jhinka man clearly didn't.

"Einar is a feral idiot with a grudge. I'm trying to knock some sense into him, but he's stubborn," the man said from where he was still seat on a struggling Einar's back. "This is Jillian, right?" he asked Daemonar. "So who are you?"

"Daemonar Yaslana," he responded.

"Jin, no last name," the grey jeweled Jhinka said. "What are you looking for two Jhinka for?"

"I was told I needed to," Daemonar said. Now that he got a look at the man he noticed a few things about him, the first being that Jin was a Warlord Prince. The Second was that while the man was well built, he was also shorter than Daemonar. His black membranous wings tucked easily against his back and both he and Einar had long hair.

"What for?"

"I came to find men who I could trust to serve my Queen," Daemonar said. He didn't know why, but he could feel that this man sitting on the other Jhinka was perfect, exactly who he'd want for Orian. His appearance, his background, his name, all of it made Daemonar's teeth itch… but his person drew Daemonar in. If Jin was a Jinar, and had a different color skin Daemonar felt like they could have been fast friends.

"What queen?" Jin asked, showing his teeth.

"In Kaeleer," Jillian said. Both the Jhinka stopped moving at that.

"Kaeleer?" Einar growled with a mouthful of dirt. He didn't really have a pleasant voice, especially when he was trying to spit out dirt.

"You're from Kaeleer?" Jin asked before looking down at Einar. "If you promise to be good I'll let you up. You promise?"

"I promise," Einar said. Jin stood up and though Einar looked sorely tempted he stayed still. He actually looked like he was taller and stronger than Jin, but Jin seemed to have some kind of training. Daemonar could easily see that Einar was probably more broken in than whenever Jin had first given him his name.

"Are you interested?" Daemonar asked.

Jin looked hesitant. Einar looked eager. "Of course," Jin said hesitantly.

*Are you sure?* Jillian asked.

*I couldn't be more unsure, but I know I was supposed to find these men,* Daemonar responded.

"Then we need to make plans," Daemonar said with a big smile. "So, how about we make camp or something?"

"We already have one," Jin said.

"Then let's go there. We got some supplies, we can share," Daemonar added, lightly elbowing Jillian who nodded. She didn't seem any more sure than the men who were standing there. They way they all looked at each other. None of them could trust the other because of what they were and who they were… but for the moment they had to live with it.

* * *

A/N: Yeah! I finished!

Yes, Profenar is named after a bottle of Ibu Profen (Advil) that's sitting next to my computer.


End file.
